


Have Yourself a Merry Lost Light Christmas

by extension_cord



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Christmas, Drinking, Feel-good, Fluff, Gen, fluff fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extension_cord/pseuds/extension_cord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MTMTE: Pipes wants to get in the Christmas spirit, even if he doesn't know exactly what Christmas is. His crewmates are equally confused, but that doesn't stop them from helping. Pure fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have Yourself a Merry Lost Light Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QTQuasar](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=QTQuasar).



> Written as a secret santa prompt for QTQuasar on Tumblr! I'm pretty happy with how this came out, as I don't usually (read: ever) write fluff. This is a G-rated fic in a sea of porn and depravity.
> 
> Disclaimer — nothing recognizable belongs to me.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

"Magnus says they wear hats. Red and white hats. I bet they're _stupid_ hats."

"I think Rewind has a few films about it. Apparently they've got a tradition of shooting their eyes out with nonlethal firearms." 

"They decorate their trees and homes with strands of colorful lights. It's surprisingly peaceful. It certainly lifts the spirits."

"It's cold, and there's a whole lot of snow. You know the white stuff you saw on Messatine? Like that. It's miserable."

"I heard they go out early to buy tons of crap, and when there isn't enough of that crap to go around, they get into fistfights over it! Pretty neat, huh?"

"I don't want to talk about _them_ , so don't even ask."

* * *

If there was one planet Pipes wished he'd had the chance to visit, it was Earth. His crewmates, the few of them lucky (or unlucky) enough to have spent time there, told plenty of stories about its quirks and customs — though Pipes wasn't sure how many of the tales were actually true, because at times the accounts were ridiculously conflicting. 

Most recently, though, the minibot had heard Ultra Magnus grumble something under his breath about it nearly being time for _Christmas_ on Earth— and that had piqued Pipes' interest considerably. He didn't intend to ask about it, though — at least, he didn't intend to ask _Ultra Magnus_. He'd instead turned to his crewmates, and predictably enough, they had proven to be less than helpful.

Rodimus was hung up on the humans' choice of holiday attire; Chromedome knew only secondhand accounts from Rewind, whose sole source of information came from holiday movies. Drift, meanwhile, spoke at length about the lights and smells and music — without ever actually explaining what Christmas actually _was_ — and all Ratchet could comment on was the substantial amount of snow, something that, after Delphi, Pipes didn't really want to think about. Whirl, having never spent time on Earth, had nothing useful to contribute, save for a "totally awesome" phenomenon he'd heard about called _Black Friday_. Sunstreaker, for his part, refused to even _speak_ about humans or their customs.

Pipes didn't have much to go on.

In the end, though, he'd surmised enough: this _Christmas_ , whatever it was, seemed to make people _happy_. It was something that the crew of the _Lost Light_ , which was constantly battling a persistent case of apathy and ennui, desperately needed. Pipes' first order of business, he decided, was to talk to Swerve.

* * *

"So — so, what, you wanna throw a _party?_ What _kind_ of a party?" 

"I'm not exactly sure," Pipes admitted. "You ever heard of this 'Christmas' thing?"

"What, the Earth holiday? The one with copious amounts of _gift-giving_ and _obnoxious-song-singing?_ " Swerve dispensed a small glass of engex, stuck in a curly straw, and slid it across the countertop to Pipes. "Sure I have! Don't know how reliable my sources are — I've never seen the festivities for myself, never been to Earth — but it _sounds_ like it's _awesome_."

"I overheard Ultra Magnus talking about it. Said it's getting to be that time of the year on Earth." Pipes retracted the intake panel on his facemask and took a small sip of engex. "He sounded rather — rather _wistful_ about it."

"Did he, now?"

"Yeah, and — I dunno. I want to put something together for the crew. You supply the drinks, Rewind supplies the movies — maybe Siren can find some music?" Pipes shrugged. "Ratchet sounded real jaded about the whole thing — and don't get me started on _Sunstreaker_ — but I think the crew _needs_ something nice, you know?"

Swerve's face was overtaken by a wide grin. "I agree _completely_. Especially when there's drinks involved. _Lots_ of drinking."

* * *

"You want me to do _what?_ Make _lights_? As in — _lights?_ " 

Venturing into Brainstorm's laboratory, Pipes decided, might not have been the best of ideas. Still, it was worth a try, and despite the lanky weapons engineer towering above him, Pipes stood his ground. "Er, yeah. Decorative lights. _Colorful_ decorative lights."

"They sound entirely benign," Brainstorm huffed, arms crossed over his chest, mysterious briefcase, as always, fastened around one wrist. "Just — colored lights? Is that all they do? Light up?"

"That's kind of the point," Pipes said with a nervous laugh. "They're there to look nice."

"And you don't want them to _emit_ anything other than light? No _persuasive energy waves_ , no _lethal circuit disrupters?_ "

"Um — not ideally, no."

"Then I'm afraid I can't do it," Brainstorm said, and his words carried a weighted sense of finality.

"Not even for — for free drinks? At Swerve's? For the next year?"

"I'll think about it."

* * *

Pipes' final stop was Chromedome and Rewind's habsuite. The mnemosurgeon hadn't been kidding: Rewind had Christmas movies. _Lots_ of Christmas movies. It came as a bit of a surprise to Pipes, because didn't Rewind typically catalogue films of _historic_ importance? And more specifically, _Cybertronian_ films of historic importance? Whatever the archivist's excuse for his collection of Earth movies was, it was fortuitous for Pipes and his Christmas mission. 

"What kind of movie are you _looking_ for? I mean, I've probably got _at least_ eighty."

" _Why?_ "

Rewind shrugged. "Why not? They're entertaining, even if I don't understand what's going on, half the time."

"Fair enough," said Pipes with a sigh. "What are our options? Give me a run-down of a couple of the more — _representational_ ones."

"Right-o." Rewind paused as he accessed his internal data storage, then, "A green — creature? A green creature speaks in rhyme and steals a bunch of toys."

"Er, pass."

"A man dies and is reincarnated as a snow — uh, _creature_."

" _Pass_."

Rewind chuckled. "Yeah, they seem to have a fascination with vaguely human-shaped monsters. Moving on. Um, alright — hoofed, hairy animals native to Earth fly. And, uh, ferry a large man from house-to-house? It's really bizarre, but apparently this one's a classic."

Behind his red visor, Pipes felt his right optic twitch. "Okay, bookmark it. What else have you got?"

"A child begs his parents for a nonlethal firearm, only to receive it for Christmas and shoot his eye out. Well, something like that, anyway."

"Swerve might enjoy it," Pipes commented.

"He just might."

* * *

In the end, by some stroke of luck or perhaps the will of Primus himself, things came together, and they came together splendidly. The first sign of success showed when Brainstorm turned up at Swerve's bar, a large roll of tiny, colorful lights tucked under one arm. He approached Pipes almost furtively, glancing about as if he was _ashamed_ to be touching something that wasn't remarkably dangerous. "I can't guarantee they won't set the place on fire, but here they are, as you requested: decorative lights that are otherwise useless." 

"Thanks, Brainstorm."

Within the hour, the strands of lights were hung — and Drift had been right: they _were_ pleasant. There was something about their brilliant glow that resonated deep within Pipes' spark, something familiar yet intangible.

Soon, Swerve was brewing up several concoctions of _holiday-flavored_ engex — whatever _that_ meant — and Pipes had to admit that just the mere smell of the drinks was downright intoxicating. As the day shift ended, crewmates started trickling into the bar. Some, like Trailbreaker and Hoist, went straight for the engex, while others stopped and stared at the multicolored lights. Skids scrutinized them for an extended moment, then spotted Pipes staring at him.

"What _is_ this?" the theoretician asked, jabbing a digit at the twinkling lights. "New décor, or…?"

Before Pipes could stammer an answer, Swerve appeared beside him, grinning wider than ever. "It's a theme night at the bar! You ever heard of Christmas?"

"Nope."

"Well you have now," Swerve declared. "It's a holiday where you drink lots of hot engex, sing ridiculously tacky songs, give unwanted gifts, and watch bad movies. You in?"

Pipes escaped before he heard Skids' response. Instead, he turned his attention to the entrance of the bar: Sunstreaker had just made his way inside, chirping insecticon pet in tow. Upon seeing the colorful lights and smelling the heady scent of mulled engex, the scowl seemed to dissolve from Sunstreaker's face — and Pipes chalked _that_ up as a small but very worthwhile victory.

Seconds later, the music started. Pipes should have known — he should have _known_ — that with Siren at the helm of the public address system, it would be loud. It _was_ loud. Incredibly loud. And the blue minibot had a creeping suspicion that the Christmas music wasn't restricted to just Swerve's bar: no, it was mostly likely being broadcast throughout the entire ship.

Sure enough, halfway through the chorus of the first song, Ultra Magnus showed up, frown deeper than ever, Rodimus two steps behind him, trying to talk sense into the much-taller 'bot. The captain shrugged and reached for a glass of bright-red engex; if the second-in-command had a complaint, it was lost in the clamor of the music and the dispensing of drinks. Whirl soon arrived, looking _far_ too pleased for the general well-being of the crew; Tailgate appeared, blue visor bright with excitement, Cyclonus not far behind, still looking as sullen as ever.

And people just kept arriving: Drift, delight showing on his face as he spotted the newly-installed lights — First Aid, Ambulon, and Ratchet, all three of them making a beeline for the engex — Chromedome and Rewind, chatting pleasantly, somehow able to hear one another over the blaring music. Perceptor, Rung, a nervous-looking Fortress Maximus, a mildly-irritated Red Alert — Pipes had intended to count the number of attendees, but he'd quickly given up. Regardless, it appeared that nearly half the crew of the _Lost Light_ was crammed into Swerve's bar — probably violating several capacity codes and therefore making both Ultra Magnus and Red Alert even _more_ disgruntled.

But that didn't really matter, and as Pipes saw Rewind readying a surface on which to project the first of many movies, he heard sounds he hadn't heard in a very long time — onboard the _Lost Light_ , during an endless war, or otherwise: uproarious laughter, the clinking of glasses, the telling of jokes, and the blasting of jubilant music.

And it occurred to Pipes, as he caught a very faint smile flicker over Ultra Magnus' face, that _this_ was what Christmas was about.

* * *

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope everyone has had a good holiday and may 2014 be leaps and bounds better than 2013!


End file.
